I twist and look at myself in the mirror over my shoulder.

The black sleeveless, seamed dress hugs every curve like a well-fitted glove. It’s as if it was made for me and for me alone.

The silver clasp of the thin black belt fits perfectly between the two long seams that run vertically down the dress, as if the belt itself was sewn into the dress. Throw in my black Jimmy Choo heels, matching Gucci clutch, and I look like a million fucking dollars.

I open the clutch and pull out the engagement ring that Case got for me to wear. It’s from Tiffany—because of course it is—and looks like it cost more than all the buildings on my block.

I slip it on, and it fits snug against my finger.

Now I really look the part of Case Sterling’s fiancé.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and it opens to reveal Case.

Speaking of a million fucking dollars.

He’s wearing this dark navy colored suit—likely Armani—with a pearly white shirt underneath with the top button undone. It gives a teasing peak at what lies underneath.

His cufflinks and shoes are the same kind of onyx color that my dress is, which—given his style—is likely on purpose.

“Are you ready to go?”

I can sense a faint hint of anxiousness in his voice.

Given what he’s told me, this is a huge deal for him. It makes sense that there would be some excitement to see it done.

“You kidding me? I’ve been waiting on your slow ass,” I tease.

His lips purse together before giving way to a smug grin. It’s a sexy grin. Made all the more so by his perfectly tailored suit.

Case’s pale green eyes look me over. He’s inspecting me—measuring me up—and the mischievous twinkle that dances about in them tells me that he’s pleased with what he sees.

The tip of his tongue slips from between his lips, but it’s pushed back to its home as he bites down his lower lip. He turns and leaves the doorway without another word.

I’m instantly wet.

I follow after him.

It’s a short trip to our destination—Marcel’s by Robert Wiedmaier—that’s made longer by traffic. In truth, we could’ve made it faster just by walking.

At least, I could have anyway. I doubt Case takes the time to walk across the street if he doesn’t have to.

We’re escorted to the Senator’s table once we arrive.

As expected, Senator Price is wearing a standard, well-tailored black suit, white shirt, and red tie. It’s like the standard uniform of the Republican party. His wife—a woman who looks almost two decades younger than her husband—is wearing a two-piece creamy red dress that looks handcrafted by Donatella Versace herself.

Case and the Senator share a handshake.

The wife and I share a small hug.

“That’s a lovely outfit. Prada?” the woman asks.

“No. Gucci,” I tell her with a smile.

“Very lovely,” she coos.

“Senator Gregory Price, may I introduce to you my fiancé, Gabrielle Bishop,” Case announces me.

His hand moves to the small of my back, and I feel a tingle at the touch.

“Senator Price, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I lay on the charm as I shake his hand.

“The pleasure is all mine,” the Senator states with a bold smile. “This is my wife Abigail.”

Case and the woman shake hands.

I catch her eyes give him a once-over rather quickly before her husband can notice.

I smile to hide my urge to laugh.

“You know, I was surprised when Case had told me that he would bringing his fiancé to lunch with him today,” Price announces as we settle into our chairs. “I didn’t even know he had a specific woman in his life.”

“Well, we decided to keep things quiet,” I say with a side eye look to Case. “You know how the media and tabloids are nowadays. We decided from the start to keep things close to our chests so that we didn’t have the paparazzi butting in at every opportunity.”

“Wise decision indeed,” Abigail says with great approval.

“But when I told Gabrielle that I had lunch scheduled with you, she insisted she join us. She’s a prodigy of sorts when it comes to politics,” Case says with a smile in my direction.

His hand reaches over to rest against the small of my back again. His thumb rubs at my flesh through the dress. It’s like the whisper of a touch, and my body yearns for more.

“A prodigy, you say?” Price inquires with a raised eyebrow. “You wouldn’t happen to the Gabrielle Bishop who graduated from Yale with the highest honors to ever be given to a Political Science major?”

I smile and nod. From the corner of my eye, I can see the smile on Case’s face widen in satisfaction. I’ve piqued the Senator’s interest more than Case had expected, I’m sure.

I just hope that he doesn’t bring up Senator Warren.

Our waiter approaches the table and introduces himself. The Senator chooses a bottle of wine, a petite Sirah, for the table. It’s an unsurprising decision, given the wine comes from the Lakeridge Winery out of Florida.

Case orders for the both of us—I play along and trust his judgment for now—and the Senator orders for his wife and himself.

The waiter takes our menus and leaves us.

“I’m curious. How did a woman with such a promising future and keen mind, end up with a man like Case Sterling?” the Senator asks with a quick glance to Case.

The man’s question was meant to be a dig to Case. And Case knows.

“I think you underestimate my Case, Senator. He’s a man of promising vision and foresight.”

“My, perhaps I should bring you to these dinners more often. I could get used to these compliments,” Case says with a small chuckle.

Abigail joins him with a laugh of her own as her hand falls to the Senator’s.

I lean over to give Case a soft kiss. The feeling of his lips against my own is too fucking brief for my liking, but jumping him in front of the restaurant would be unwise.

“I give you compliments when you’re deserving of them, lover,” I whisper—in a tone far more husky than intended—as I sit back up in my seat.

Case clears his throat and readjusts himself.

It seems that our kiss was far too brief for him, too.

I dare to glance down at his thighs and see the growing ridge of his cock bulging from underneath the dark pants.

“I’ll have to remember that for later,” Case states as he grabs his glass of water.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Senator. You want to give Case these permits not only for him, but for yourself as well,” I state confidently.

Price raises an eyebrow and leans forward in his seat just a little. “And why is that, Miss Bishop?”

“Republicans have a problem when it comes to connecting to the younger generation. It’s always been your largest shortcoming as a political force. And for someone like you, who’s quite possibly the party’s next Presidential candidate, you can’t afford that kind of shortcoming if you want to win.”

Now is my chance to shine.

I’m not keen to help the man—seeing as I’m a Democrat myself—but I’m here to do whatever’s needed to get Case the permits he needs for his fucking rocket.

“And you think that me giving Case what he needs will help me in gaining the votes of a younger generation?”

I nod.

“Oh, I like this woman, Gregory. She’s good,” Abigail says with praise dripping from each syllable.

“Alright, Miss Bishop—”

“Please, call me Gabbi,” I interject.

“Alright, Gabbi, tell me more then.”

The conversation stretches on well past lunch—which was the most decadent thing I’ve ever eaten—and now into dinner.

For every objection that Price has for some fact or piece of information that Case brings up, I’m there to back Case up. We play off each other so well that it’s like we’ve been at this for years together. And every time the conservative Senator thinks he has the upper hand, I’m able to spin it around, putting him in his place each time.

Even as impressed as the man is, he underestimates me at every turn.

It gives me the upper hand the entire evening.

Politics is my world—my life—and I fucking flourish.

Even Case is barely able to keep up at times. And by the time dinner arrives on the table, his wife is on board with Case and I.

The Senator knows he lost, but he’s loath to admit it.

Typical male pride and all.

“I’ll admit that I’ve spent all day trying to find a reason to tell you to shove this rocket launch of yours up your ass, Case,” the Senator quips. “But you’re fiancé is good. Real good. I would even say better than you deserve.”

Case licks his lips and grabs his glass of wine.

The subtle digs and insults being hurled at him all night are no doubt wearing thin on him. To his credit, though, Case takes each one like a fucking champ and smiles through them with charm. I have to admit that it has me seeing him in a different light.

The way he talks about the rocket launch and what it means for the future is truly inspiring, and I even get swept up a couple times. There are moments when we catch ourselves looking at each other—a look that’s more than just wanting to fuck each other.

There’s a deeper connection there.

I’m loath to admit this, but I’m actually attracted to Case for more than just his looks.

I could actually see myself with him.

“And because of her, I’m going to sign those permits for you, Case,” the Senator finishes with mild bitterness in his tone.

“So be sure to reward her for her part in the victory,” Abigail chimes in with a beaming smile.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. Gabrielle is going to get rewarded tonight with everything and anything she wants. And then some,” Case declares.

He turns to me with a suggestive look, and I’m hit with a fresh surge of warmth between my thighs. I can’t wait to get this man in bed and to fuck him senseless.